


Glass Half Full

by grey2510



Series: The Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Destiel if you squint, Crowley deserves some love, Gen, Past Drowley if you squint, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), The Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt, round 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Dean knows Crowley could have just walked away from that whole Ramiel shitshow, left Cas to die. But he didn't. And if it hadn't been for Crowley...Dean's not sure what he would have done.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThayerKerbasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/gifts).



> Round 6's tropes:  
> \- [Your favorite](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/YourFavorite)  
> \- Dean drinks away his problems
> 
>  
> 
> I actually wrote something short! Whoa!

“You ok?” Sam asks from behind Dean.

Turning from the counter in the kitchen, Dean nods and scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, just…" He lets the thought trail off, but Sam still nods in understanding.

“Cas ok?”

Dean shakes his head. “I dunno. I guess so. He’s sleeping it off.”

And Dean knows he won’t be sleeping tonight, not without a crapton of alcohol to drown out—no, not drown, anything but _drown_ —dull and blur and stop the nightmares. Seeing Cas like that, with the black goo—and _god_ had it stunk, fetid and rotten—and the cracked skin crawling over him and the blood, so much blood…And he’d—they’d—almost lost Cas again, like they did before, by the water, and—

He blinks, jolting himself back to the reality of the kitchen. Sam’s studying him, trying to piece him together, but must make some conclusions because he doesn’t comment, but yawns out that he’s exhausted and is heading off to bed, too.

Before Sam disappears into the hall, however, he stops and says, “Try to sleep, Dean. I know… Just, remember Cas is alive. He’s ok.”

“Yeah, I know, Sammy. He’s a tough sonofabitch,” Dean says with more confidence than he feels. Doesn’t matter that his brother can more than take care of himself and that they have him to thank for killing Ramiel, Dean knows that what happened with Cas, what Cas had said, hit Sam hard, too. And so, putting on a wry grin that he knows doesn’t meet his eyes, he adds, “Should probably send Crowley a fruit basket.”

Sam half-smiles. “Yeah. Guess he’s earned that.” He shakes his head. “G’night.”

"’Night.”

Dean braces his hands on the island, staring at the smooth metal surface. Sam might have thought he was joking, but Crowley really did save their asses, save  _Cas_.

“You’re welcome,” the demon had said, and he’d looked right at Dean when he’d said it and Dean knows what that look had meant, why Crowley had done it, had broken an immensely powerful weapon that he could have just as easily zapped away with.

And what had Dean said before? “We don’t have time for you."

And then Crowley had _still_ gone to bat for them.

Fuck.

Dean hates owing people, and him and Crowley is a can of worms and a half (of Dean's own doing, too, to be honest), but if it hadn’t been for the demon…

It’s not like it’s the first time he’s done it, either. The memory of Crowley, swollen eye and busted up lip and all, floats into Dean’s mind’s eye, and Dean’s paltry attempt at thanks— _”Well, I gotta hand it to you. You said you were gonna draw Lucifer’s fire and you drew some serious fire.”_ —echoes in his brain.

Shit. One of these days, Crowley’s gonna decide he isn’t going to lift a finger to help if he’s not even going to get a fucking _thanks_ , and if it’s Sammy or Cas’ life on the line…

Mind made up, Dean turns back to the cabinets and rummages in one of them for a moment, pulling out an old bottle of whiskey that some cultured Man of Letters left behind. He’s found a couple of these stashed around, and while it’s not a label he recognizes, it’s a hell of a lot better than his usual rotgut. He puts the bottle on the table and takes out his phone, snapping a quick picture.

 

> DEAN: I know its not ur fave but theres a glass if you want one

There’s a part of him that hates that he knows what whiskey _is_ the King of Hell’s favorite.

 

> CROWLEY: I just saved *your* favorite for you and this is the thanks I get?

“But I graciously accept,” Crowley says from the stairs leading out of the kitchen.

And so Dean pours out two tumblers-full.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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